


everything is icy and blue (and you would be there too)

by safeandsound13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Sci-Fi, Secret Santa, Snow, delinquent feels, spaceship shenigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 17:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21711838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safeandsound13/pseuds/safeandsound13
Summary: When Eligius XV-b gets stranded on a on a faraway planet made of snow on the corner of the middle of nowhere, Captain Blake does definitely not think a snowball fight is the logical next step. His crew has other plans.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59
Collections: Bellarke Secret Santa 2019





	everything is icy and blue (and you would be there too)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kindclaws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindclaws/gifts).



> miss sara a legend so i hope i did her prompts some justice. fun fact my draft was titled 'kindclaws i love you and i'm crippled by the fear of disappointing you'. happy holidays!
> 
> song in title is a dead giveaway but ask me if i care. i dare you. 
> 
> and remember children, once it comes to technical/spaceship/sci-fi stuff, ***once more in falsetto now*** i dont know what the Fᵘᵘuᵘᵘᵘuuᶜᶜk i'm talking about!

**~~**

The blare of an alarm makes him surge awake seconds after he’s finally fallen into a slumber, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes briefly to repress the urge to scratch them out. Clarke barely stirs beside him. An orange light flashes through the room with an exponentially high speed so Bellamy quickly scrambles forward to the touchscreen comm system next to his baydoor. “Shaw?”

“Cap. We got a situation,” it’s Raven instead, even though he explicitly told her she needed some sleep after that scare they had — he checks his watch — all of thirty-six minutes ago. “That meteor storm we passed through — me and St. John used the force of gravitational acceleration instead of relying on regular DAM, but the engine must’ve idled for too long and now the fuel isn’t vaporizing in the carburettor. I’ve tried throttling it but it looks like the alternator gave out after that hit we took —”

Bellamy racks his brain, trying to keep up with her, but he’s barely slept and he’s definitely no engineer. His voice is rough with sleep as he barks, cutting her off mid-sentence, “Translation?”

“Boom!” She snaps through the comm system, her voice slightly distorted as the overhead lights start to flicker, power surging on and off in flashes, the ship hovering to the right for a second before the backup generator kicks in. “It means fucking boom if we don’t land somewhere, fast.”

That’s about the short version of how they end up on a giant snowball, eTNO Unidentified Planet 99, on the outer rim of the Polis System, hacking up smoke. The longer version includes a tense improvised six minute autorotative descent, an impossibly rocky emergency landing with multiple on-board explosions included, sweat rolling down his back, Jasper deeming the planet ‘ _O-LAF_ ’ at the most inappropriate of times, and _a lot_ of yelling. 

Like eardrum splitting yelling. He’s still panting, yanking off his helmet and tossing it aside so he can take a real breath. He looks around the room, everybody seems relatively fine. A few are groaning or trying to slow their breathing, re-collecting their bearings but he thinks they’ll live. 

“Emergency lockdown, all systems out of order. Please follow protocol Evacuation Procedure.” ALIE’s — their ship’s interactive AI’s consciousness — voice keeps booming over the overhead announcement speakers, stuck on repeat. “Emerge-Emergency lockdown. Downlock Emerge. Gencydown Lock. Lock. Lock. Emergency. Order out.”

“Short-circuit during landing must’ve fried the girl,” Shaw yells over the loud alarm blaring, unfastening his seatbelts to walk over to a nearby control board. He starts typing furiously, ALIE continues to have a public break down. “Protocol. Fol-low-low. Proto. Low. Col. L-l-l-ol. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol. Lol.”

“Glad someone’s enjoying themselves,” Murphy grumbles, rolling his neck in circles with a pained look on his face. 

Shaw presses a big red button in the middle of the control panel and her voice distorts before it shuts off completely. In addition, the alarms finally shut up, only the flashing orange light streaking across their ship in pulses. He smirks, a little prideful, hands on his hips as he admires the looks of relief on everybody’s face. 

“Thank God,” Raven breathes, wiping some sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist as she slumps back into her seat. One of her co-pilots, Emori reaches out her first for a congratulatory bump, because a successful landing doesn’t mean it’s not a bumpy ride.

“So, O-LAF?” Jasper cuts in, a plethora of voices breaking out to tell him to shut the fuck up in various degrees of annoyed, raging from ‘ _bothered_ ’ to ‘ _ready to put him on an ejection seat and say bye-bye_ ’.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, deciding to let someone else take it this time as he shifts his head to the side, eyes zeroing in on Clarke. She’s struggling with the buckle of her seatbelt, her hands trembling and a crease in between her brows. 

“Damnit,” he hears her mutter under his breath as he comes close enough, patting Miller on the shoulder on his way there. It’s a small gesture of ‘ _glad you’re still alive_ ’ that they all have down by now. Even if they’re just on a scientifically based exploratory mission, trouble still runs into them on the regular. 

Bellamy crouches down in front of her, stilling her hands with his. He looks up at her, searching her face for any signs of distress, but bar from the small cut on her forehead, she seems unharmed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, the frustration she was holding in her shoulders deflating at the sight of him as she lets out a shaky exhale. 

He doesn’t dare look at her straight the eye as he raises his eyebrows, busying himself by checking out the cut on her forehead and brushing away a few strands of her hair, but he can’t keep the skepticism out of his voice. “And—”

The laceration is shallow, just a scratch. She grits her teeth, the tone of her voice making his eyes snap back up to hers. They’re a dark, geomagnetic lunar radiation storm kind of blue, swirling with heat. “ _Fine_. Bellamy.”

“Okay,” he concedes, even if he’s not fully satisfied with her answer. It’s why he can’t shut up immediately. “It’s just that I’m not used to seeing you affected so much. This landing was a breeze compared to when we were part of that fighting unit—”

“Bellamy,” she seethes, cupping his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks even if there’s a small amount of amusement layered in her gaze now. “ _Fine_.”

He clamps his mouth shut, giving her a small nod. He trusts her more than himself, so if she says she’s fine, he’ll just have to believe she is. Finally, he reaches for her seatbelt, unbuckling it skillfully. 

Bellamy smirks, but she cuts in before he can let it get too smug. “Don’t.”

He helps pull her up from her seat with both hands, and they return to the rest of the group to find them fully immersed in a speculatory discussion about the planet they just crashed, covered in a blanket of white snow. Or at least, they hope it’s snow. You never know. 

“Is it breathable?” Harper wonders, hands on her hips as she stares at the dwindling snowflakes outside through their front windshield. There’s a look of awe on her face, and Bellamy knows she’s from a small system of star planets on the left-border of the solar Sanctum region. She must’ve never seen anything like it before. 

“I’m not sure,” Raven grunts, eyes fixated on the control board in front of her, even as it malfunctions, a blue hue from the screen covering her face. The taps of her fingers get rougher and rougher with each press until he’s not fully convinced it couldn’t just be classified as punching, “ALIE didn’t complete her planetary readings before she shut down.”

“If it is I would like to collect some samples,” Monty pipes in, to which Jasper elbows him, overexagerratingly subtle, snorting, “Yeah, yeah, and with that he means he would like to go outside and make a snow angel.”

“Shut up. It’s for science,” he counters, eyes narrowed into sliths as he rubs his sore side. Some would say it was a bet taking two unexperienced scientists fresh from college onto his crew, but he’d argue and say they keep morale high, just as import. 

“You’re a botanist,” Jasper deadpans, look on his face sobering. “The whole thing is covered in snow as far as we can see.”

Before the other wonder twin can form a response their main pilot roars, “God!”, slamming her first into the panel. 

“Hey. Hey.” Shaw grabs Raven’s hand with his, tugging her a step back from the command panel until she’s tucked under his arm. “Easy on the Genius-on-Genius violence.”

“Okay,” Emori says it like a conclusion, swerving the seat closer to the panel and plopping down on it. Her metal prosthesis makes a clicking noise as it moves over the touchscreen to type. “I think if we can get ALIE back up, we’ll need about 30 minutes to find out.”

“While we wait, I would like to bring O-LAF back up for discus—”

Shaw just manages to hold Raven back, her fist already raised in the air. 

“Alright,” Bellamy shouts authoritatively, slipping his fingers from Clarke’s to hold up his hands in a steadying manner. “While Emori works on getting ALIE back, how about we assess the damage to the rest of the ship? Keep busy?” His eyes flicker over to Jasper, half-hiding behind Monty while Raven still glowers at him with venom. “Maybe it’s best if we all split up, yeah? Cover more ground.”

Everybody goes off in pairs, and he stays behind to check up with Emori before going to find Clarke. It doesn’t take long to discover her in front of the bay window on the bridge by herself, fingers wrapped around the railing in front of it as she stares outside. 

Even after all these years, the fights, the victories and the losses, the scars and the scares, the hard decisions and the easier ones — she still manages to take his breath away. 

It’s hard to imagine that up until a few short years ago they despised each other. Bellamy, a second captain to a battle fleet, and Clarke, designated field medic, always finding something to disagree on. It was _fun_ , fighting with her, anything not to be thinking about how, during those days, they lost pieces of who they were mission by mission, chipping away at them with each impossible decision and lost comrade. Then she almost died, and then she almost died _again_ , and then he figured that if she liked him saving her life so much, maybe they shouldn’t be wasting any more time. Together, they put in their transfer requests the day after they got married. 

Bellamy can’t say he doesn’t miss the action, but, despite them being ten times smaller, interstellar explorer missions that are someday going to change science and then life as they know it — _pretty_ awesome, too, if you ask him. Besides, he was promoted to captain and has his own ship now, gets to pick his own crew, and it means everything — _everything_ — knowing she’s not constantly out there risking her life anymore. All that really matters is that she’s safe.

He clears his throat in an effort not to scare her, coming up beside her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she says, and it takes another second for her to tear her gaze off the snowstorm outside, blinking up at him with a soft smile on her face before leaning her cheek against his shoulder. 

Bellamy muffles a gruff chuckle. “You tired?”

She rubs her face against him, maybe to wake herself up more, her eyes droopy nonetheless. “A little.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder so she can lean more of her weight on his chest, rubbing her bicep slowly. “I really hoped we’d make it back in time.”

In time for the holidays. _Meizenbranahoud_ , which roughly translates to a beautiful new world. It’s not an exact science, since time doesn’t work the same everywhere in the universe, but roughly every six-hundred Earth days they celebrate the beginning of a new period of time. After the war it was a way for them to remember their fallen, celebrate their heroes and keep hope alive that change would come. It’s symbolic for leaving the past behind and starting over new, _better_ people. A time everyone typically shares with family and friends.. And of course, the perfect excuse to get drunk and eat until they’re about to burst for most. 

“Yeah,” Clarke mumbles, stifling a yawn, “Would’ve been nice to see mom and Octavia.”

He doesn’t want to talk about Octavia and feel a weird kind of sad but happy right now, so instead he focuses his gaze on the world outside. “Pretty,” he says, absently, glancing down at her. 

She hums in agreement, fingers clutching his shirt lightly. “We haven’t seen snow in a while.” 

Their last planet was a sandy desert, the one before that made out of glass. There was one that was just an ocean, and last year they went to a moon with two suns. It had a lot of forests, but no snow.

They should probably join their friends into figuring out exactly what level of screwed they are, that is if they ever want to get out of here, but Bellamy trusts his technical crew to get them home, no matter what. Over the years, they’ve learned to take in the view. The planet seems to be overcast by dreamlike blue-ish aurorae, and there’s a gleam in the thick layer of snow covering the ground like it’s made out of tiny little diamonds. 

There’s an excited yelp far down the hall from them, then his favorite co-pilots voice echoes through the corridors, “Everyone to the control room please. Emori is a genius. I repeat Emori is a genius and you all suck.”

Clarke makes an amused sound in the back of her throat as she pulls away to look at him, and he bites back a smile, nudging his head towards the general area of the control room. 

Once they wander in, others trickling in at their own pace, ALIE’s familiar robotic voice is already blasting through the ship again. “Eligius XV-b approved for re-entry. All systems active. Clear for Touchdown Procedure. Initiating Touchdown Procedure. All shields are disengaged. Standby for airlocks depressurizing. ” 

“I fixed her,” Emori beams at them over her shoulder from over by the panel, her long brown hair held down by a scarf falling down her back, still working furiously. Graphics show up on the holographic screen behind it, showcasing the atmospheric composition of the planet, the availability of energy sources, weather conditions and predictions, and most importantly, the level of breathable oxygen in the air. 

“And in under twenty minutes?” Raven squeezes her shoulder in respect, sinking down in the seat beside her with her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised. “I’m impressed.”

“You know what they say,” Murphy smirks, arms crossed over his chest as he slithers up in front of the information screen. In a team full of scientist, engineers, pilots, medics and people with a military background — he is definitely the odd one out. He’s mostly just here because Emori said she wouldn’t come without him, but he’s picked up some useful skills over the missions they’ve spent together. He’s a great cook, very creative with the little rations they have which mostly consist out of algae. “The student becomes the master.”

“Airlocks depressurizing in three, two, seven, zero, shield, thirty, st-standby, standby—” Emori slams her metal hand down on a button in the middle of the panel, cutting her off abruptly. There’s a sheepish look on her face. “ _Okay_ , she’s not fully recovered yet, but I know a thing or two about rehabilitation.”

“Ha,” Raven counters, dryly. Smug smirk on her face. “Plenty to learn.”

“So how soon can we get out of here?” Bellamy is still wishful-thinking that they might make it back in time to see his sister before she embarks on her next solar system tour. He barely sees her nowadays, and the holidays are the only time of the year she won’t make up excuses not to come home and he won’t have to feel selfish for asking her to. _There’s so much to see_ , she’d tell him, eager enthusiasm evident in her green eyes even through a hologram, _and I want to see it all_. 

Their engineer slash pilot is studying a diagram on the holographic screen in front of her, turning the image with her hands. It must be ALIE’s analysis of the engine. “We should be able to fix the alternator within the next ten minutes, actually.”

“What?” Jasper exclaims, suddenly interested in the conversation. He’s actually disappointed, it’s all over his face. 

“It’s make or break it, really,” Emori adds, dimple forming in her forehead, suddenly sobered from her previous enthusiasm. “I’ve been trying to reach the base, but ALIE’s reach is limited now her brain got fried.” 

“So if Raven can’t fix the alternator, we’re screwed?” Clarke concludes, her eyebrows wrinkled together. He keeps telling her that she has Resting Frown Face, always worried about something. This time, he has to agree with her. 

He’s already pushing himself up from the panel he was leaning against, opening his mouth to jump in and really just get deeply into the fact about how they _have_ to get home, but Raven is already scoffing, obviously deeply offended. “Of course I can fix the alternator.” 

“I know you can fix anything,” Clarke muses, sending her a grin with just the barest gleam of her teeth before she presses, validly so, “But what if there’s nothing left to fix?” 

She might be a genius, but she’s not a God. She can’t _make_ an alternator appear out of thin air. What if it’s damaged beyond repair? The engineer just rolls her eyes, shrugging her sleek ponytail off her shoulder as she holds up two hands, emphasising, “Ten minutes.”

Clarke nods minutely, worries eased and apparently giving in. They’ve learned to trust Raven can practically make wine out of water and save all of their asses with that same wine. She’s never one to hold back on the truth and she wouldn’t say she could fix it if she couldn’t. He does, too, trust her, just — not his own luck, and it has him on edge.

“I’ll still need those samples,” Monty innocently announces, hands clasped behind his back as he turns to their captain with a hopeful look on his face.

With a sigh and his hands on his hips, he turns to their other pilot, examining more of ALIEs screening results. “Emori, how’s it looking?”

She tilts her head slightly, and it’s almost like there’s a flash of disappointment across her eyes before she reveals, “No sign of hostile life-forms.”

Bellamy clenches his jaw, thinking it over. Ten minutes. They’re here anyway. Might as well collect some specimen just in case they discover the cure to cytostatics-resistant hyperradiated cancer or something. “Fine,” he grits, reluctantly. “Just the samples and then we’re out of here.”

“I’ll come to guard,” Miller announces, patting the blazer pistol in his thigh holster. “In case ALIE’s raving and there’s feral polar bears or something.”

“Or something,” Bellamy says, skeptically, eye-roll implied. He knows him, and he knows he’s trying very hard to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. He knows because Miller rarely gets enthusiastic about _anything_ , considering he’s too cool for that.

Harper puts her arm around Miller’s shoulder, squeezing and swaying them from side to side for a brief second. “I’m coming too.”

“I have some ideas for a flag—” Jasper starts, holding up a finger, and Bellamy _physically_ cannot listen to him speculate about O-LAF and in what way he’s going to stake claim to the icy land surrounding them. 

“You can all go, I don’t care,” he cuts him off with an authoritative tone to his voice, even if it’s too worn down by exhaustion to really pack a punch. “Just be back within the next ten minutes.”

There’s a few soft cheers and a few louder ones, and he swears to God, sometimes he feels like the only responsible adult amongst them. He shakes his head, shifting his head to look at Clark. “Can you believe these idiots?” He lets out an exasperated huff of air at the look on her face, her rounded eyes and pink lips rolled together. “You want to go too, don’t you?”

“Come on,” she teases, all innocence now gone from her face as she tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’s _snow._ You used to know how to have fun.”

His face remains blank. If that’s her only argument, it’s not very convincing. “Low blow, Griffin.”

“Funny coming from you, considering it’s all you ever you to tell me.” She steps back from him, raising her eyebrows as she imitates him, an over exaggeratedly deep tone to her voice, “ _You’re no fun, Clarke. You always have to be so serious, princess. Clarke, you never_ —”

“Are you through?” His eyebrows shoot up, unimpressed look on his face. _Of course_ he’ll come with her. Like he’d let her go by herself. She should know this by now. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Clarke — “ _Doc_!” — catches the jacket Harper throws her as she passes the control room on her way to the entrance hatch, and starts to put the blue, glimmering garment on. “You can change your mind all you want, I’m going outside.”

“Of course you are,” he sighs, scrubbing his face tiredly with one of his palms. It’s not like he’s scared of cold, or snow, or even an abominable snowman. Besides, Clarke can take care of herself. Sometimes she’s better at taking care of herself than him. It’s just that ever since — he’s just stupidly, erratically _scared_. Not of anything in particular, just something. Imminent doom lingering in the back of his mind every time they’re in separate rooms. 

See, he doesn’t care if he makes a mistake and he screws up his own life. And at least Clarke is an independent adult who makes her own decisions and could survive it if he messes up. He just cannot live with the fact it might be his fault if something happens to him, her or to be further specified in the future. 

It’s a little — just a tiny bit — pathetic, which is the only reason why he hasn’t talked to her about it. Even though he’s pretty sure she’s got him all figured out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Clarke reminds him, sliding her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Her fingers dig in lightly, a laugh in her voice. “It’s just a little snow.” 

He exhales loudly, taking the knitted cap she’s pulling from one of her pockets and pulling it over her hair himself. He smooths it out with both hands, letting them slide down to palm her cheeks. The corners of his mouth turn up weakly. “You heard them, their might be polar bears.”

Her fingers wrap around his wrists, cynical tone to her voice. “I’m sure you’ll protect us.”

One of his hands drops down, resting over her lower belly. There’s not much to feel yet, especially not covered by the thick layers of synthetic insulation, just a small bump that really only the two of them know is there. 

“Stop being so dramatic,” Clarke groans, pulling his other hand off her face to connect their fingers. She nudges her head. “Come on, let’s find you a jacket.”

Begrudgingly, he follows her toward the equipment room, and it’s a mere thirty seconds before she’s dragging him down the steep ramp leading outside, loud crispy sounds under his boots every time they slam down into the ground. The air is frosty, raw to his skin, and the snow is up to his ankles.

To his credit, Monty is actually squatted down a few hundred metres ahead, shovelling snow into differently colored lab tubes while Miller holds them in his arms dutifully, not even blinking each time he adds another one on top of the pile. But, up ahead, Jasper is using one of their kitchen trays to sled down a small hill while Harper just watches; arms crossed over her chest, hip slightly jutted out, shaking her head, and refusing to flinch when he nearly flies off it. Off to their left, Shaw and Emori construct a snowman with their mitten-covered hands. They instructed Murphy to go find ‘ _something_ ’ that could resemble a nose, but as far as they can see there’s just snow, not a plant or rock in sight. He almost feels sorry for the guy.

Clarke holds out her hands, trying to catch the snowflakes. When it doesn’t prove a very effective strategy, she crouches down, dipping her hands into the snow only to let it filter through her fingers and back onto the ground. Her nose is a little red and the smile on her face is definitely worth it, he decides.

Monty holds open a cooler bag so Miller can drop all the tubes in it, zipping it up as they cross the distance to the two of them. He shoulders it higher, nodding at his captain. “I got what I needed.”

“Great,” Bellamy concludes, self-righteous tone to his voice. They all saw the snow, he got to see Clarke’s smile, they’re all settled. “Then we can leave.”

“Just five more minutes,” Emori pipes up, reaching up to flick a snowflake out of her eyelashes. “We’re almost —” 

Jasper slides past her, crashing right through her snowman. He rises to his feet slowly, wiping the snow off his ass before taking off his goggles to assess the damage with an “ _oops_ ”. 

  
“Done,” Shaw fills in, deadpanning as they both stare at their now flat creation, the female pilot’s hand still frozen in the air with a clump of snow in it. As if on cue, Murphy finally returns with a a small branch he got from God knows where, proceeds to see what’s left of the snowman, and tosses it onto the ground with overbearing frustration. 

“Urgh!” Emori cups her hands together around a heap of snow, forming a small ball which she aims at Jasper’s neck. It explodes onto his chest, seeping into the inside of his coat. Instead of being angry, he laughs, loudly, shaking out his torso by plucky his jacket off his body. 

For some reason, Bellamy knows exactly where this is leading even before he opens his mouth, throwing in a pre-emptive eye roll just because. “Snowball fight!” Jasper announces predictably, dunking a handful of snow on top of Harper. 

The blonde shudders at the slush running down the back of her neck. “Oh, it’s _on_.”

_No,_ he thinks, _absolutely not._ Bellamy just wants to go inside and get away from here. He’s being paranoid, he knows he is. Of course Raven is going to fix their ship. They won’t be stranded here forever. Yet his skin crawls with the possibility of it. It doesn’t look like there’s many sources of food anywhere near them, and they don’t even know if the water is drinkable. How would they survive? He doesn’t much care about himself, but what about Clarke and his friends and the baby? He knows he’s spiraling, and he can’t stop it. He’s on edge, and he knows it turns him into an insufferable asshole, and yet he can’t stop that either. He’s so self-reflective, if only he could do anything to fix it. 

So he stands there, arms crossed over his chest, _seething_ as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. “Oh fuck yes,” Miller pulling his arm back behind his head to aim his next hit at Murphy, snowflakes covering his beanie and stuck in his eyebrows. “Been waiting for this for _months._ ”

It’s just beyond him how they don’t seem to get it. Bellamy grumbles, “We’re stuck on a planet in the middle of nowhere with no ways of contacting our base and you guys want to screw around and play with sno—” As if on cue, a snowball hits him straight in the face cutting him off.

Jasper has the nerve to look sheepish, sending him a cheeky grin as Bellamy wipes the leftover snow off his face. _Okay,_ he takes a calming breath, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the chill running down his back, _o-fucking-kay._ His wife, of all people, is laughing the loudest out of everyone. So he makes sure that, after he dunks Jasper headfirst into a bank of snow, he marches up to her, threateningly. 

He narrows his eyes. “I thought you were tired.”

“That was before I just saw the look on your face,” she answers matter-of-factly, not an ounce of the fear of retaliation on her face. “ _Now_ I want to severely beat you in a snowball fight.”

  
He’s glad she thinks it’s funny, because he’s all out of laughs. He’s only half-teasing when he says, “What happened to you?” He’s not kidding when he says she used to be the serious one — always working or worrying about something. He used to have to tell her to dial it down a notch, and now she’s practically jumping at the chance to screw around. He just hopes it’s not the Great Shape-Shifter Fiasco of 2151 all over again. 

“I’m happy, Bellamy!” She bursts out, laughing lowly under her breath, absolutely baffled by his insistence of being so gloomy. “For the first time in a long while, we have it _good_ . Our job is to travel the universe, surrounded by our friends and I can finally keep my breakfasts down again. Look at this place!” She makes a show of checking out their surrounding, an excited urgency to her tone. She deflates a little at the absolutely terrified look on his face, softening her voice impossibly as she takes a step closer to him. The snow is thicker there than expected, and he has to reach out to grab her elbows to steady her. “We’re doing _good_.”

She’s right, and it sucks but maybe he should stop holding his breath waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tilts his head, and she leans up for a quick kiss, arms around his middle. Delicately, she presses, nothing but adoration on her face, “ _Please_ have some faith.”

Bellamy’s already given in, but he can’t help but pretend he hasn’t. “I _really_ don’t know what happened to my wife.”

“This insufferable, incredibly arrogant ass kept telling me that as long as we were breathing there was hope,” she counters dryly, squeezing his waist once more as she blinks up at him, challenge in her eyes. Her smug grin grows and grows at the look on his face. “Guess it kind of stuck.”

She has him right where she wants him now. He can’t stand her. He sighs, signaling over the others with a wave of his arm. Instead of outright saying he wants to have a snowball fight, he takes the easy way out. “Let’s split into two teams.”

“I call dibs on team captain!” Raven yells over from by the hatch, hands cupped around her mouth as she hobbles down the ramp. It must mean she fixed the alternator, which means they’ll get home no matter what. Happy holidays. “My picks are Clarke, Emori, Harper, Shaw, and Miller.”

Great. Him, the uncoordinated wonder twins and somebody who looks like a walking corpse. “That’s not even a fair divide.”

“I wasn’t aware we had _rules,”_ Raven snarks back loudly, pompous look on her face. Shaw is waiting for her at the end of the hatch, offering her a piggyback ride over the unsteady land to the rest of them. (One of their missions. An avalanche of asteroids. Her leg never recovered.)

“Yeah, I thought status quo around here was whatever the hell we want?” Clarke adds, saccharine sweet, and _God_ , does he want to wipe that smirk off her face. 

“We’ll never win like this!” Jasper protests from by his pile of ready-to-go snowballs, practically stomping his foot. 

“Not with that attitude you won’t no,” Clarke retaliates, moving an icy globe from one hand to another, as if casually showing off her skills. 

As soon as Raven hops off Shaw’s back, he starts, “Ready, set… Three, two…”

“Seven!” Harper shouts, throwing the first snowball to their side with a delirious kind of evil laughter. Bellamy dodges it just in time, hurrying to make his own. Maybe he’ll have to sacrifice one half of _Dude, Where’s My Spaceship?_ , but there’s no way his team isn’t taking this one home.

By all means, Bellamy had a family. Him and his sister, they took on the whole world together. But part of the deal was that, eventually, she would grow up and use all the tools he gave her to be her own person. She would _always_ be his family, always have a place with him, but they’re not as close anymore as they used to be. It used to hurt, but now he knows it’s the natural way of life and he’s made his peace with it. Family is not something you get to pick. 

Along came Clarke, and it took them a while, but now they’re a unit, and someday very soon there’ll be even more proof of that out there in the universe. He never chose her, not consciously, she was just very hard to deny. So stubborn, that woman. 

And these people, his friends, they’re not the family he chose either. Life brought them together and they kind of just crept up on him, one by one. Even Murphy. It’s a family he found, or found him, and one he’s going to keep around.

Like this new holiday tradition, for example. It's kind of fun. A snowball fight around Meizenbranahoud? Seems like something he can manage. Maybe without all the life-endangering crashing and AI-failing next time around, but hell, maybe it was half of the fun anyway. 

**~~**

**Author's Note:**

> if you don't leave a comment you support jason rothenberg and his crimes against humanity


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